


Left my shirt at the water's edge

by Conscious_ramblings



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Glitter, Kissing, M/M, Minor Drug Usage, Rimming, Skinny Dipping, dislike to love, it's not hate to love, just mild dislike, so much glitter, weed only
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conscious_ramblings/pseuds/Conscious_ramblings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis really dislikes this festival (except for how he doesn't) until he manages to sneak backstage and in doing so finds someone to make this a night of dancing, glitter, night swimming and whispered conversations under stars and moonlight.</p><p>Posh food, stupid wellies, beer, weed, glitter, music, yurts, soft pillows and marshmallows might just be a recipe for love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left my shirt at the water's edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otpwhatever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otpwhatever/gifts).



> This is for my darling Lu (otpwhatever) who has a birthday. Unfortunately I ran out of time so instead of birthday smut she has the lead up to birthday smut and will get the second half in a week. That way she gets two birthdays and as she's a queen that fits. The queen of england get's two birthday and so does Lu.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it my love x

Wilderness was shit. Sure it was fucking beautiful, and the lake was cool, and there were showers in the campsite, and the food was amazing, but it was still shit. Since they had got here Louis had seen about ten million people he knew, and while he might be prone to exaggeration, for once he was being serious. Don’t get him wrong, he liked the people he’d seen, but for a festival called Wilderness he wanted some, well, wilderness. He wanted to escape London a bit, escape the people he saw in Stokey and Dalston every weekend, escape the yummy mummies who despite the festival site being so hilly that after a day Louis’ thighs  _ ached,  _ had still brought their kids along and were pushing them around in four by four buggies or trolleys that the festival provided especially for that purpose. Honestly, a festival that encouraged children, that had a fucking area devoted to them, it just wasn’t right. Festivals should be mud and sweat and glitter and possibly some substances that were just on the wrong side of legal. This place was clean and had a tent run by Mulberry and food provided by St John’s and a distinct lack of fucking glitter. 

He should have known when Harry suggested this place. Harry would choose the one festival where you could get a soft shell crab burger but no actual plain old burger or standard chips. You could get posh mac and cheese with lobster on it, but not a fry up could be found for love nor money. 

Louis might be lying when he said he hated the place. He wasn’t about to admit that to Harry, however. It was, after all, one of the most beautiful spots you could imagine for a festival. There were wide open green spaces with rolling hills, food stands perched on their ridges. There was a forest where you could get lost late at night to the sound of drum and bass and hip hop. There were art spaces where you could create, vintage stalls that sold the kind of stuff Harry loved, and the rest of them loved to take the piss out of (shopping was win-win), and the food was actually fucking amazing. Where else could you sit down to a three course banqueting menu with wine and beer while the sweet sounds of live music drifted across a field to you? Above all else though, there was the lake. Long and sprawling and dotted with swimmers and boats and bijou little spa tents on its bank, it was Louis’ favourite place in the festival. Be it the early morning dip Liam had somehow talked him into, or the boat ride he had taken with Niall that had ended in capsizing, or the way he had laid along the banks with his friends as they strummed instruments and sung and lapped up the British summer. He liked it best at night though, when lanterns along the paths and the bridges failed to illuminate the inky black middle. 

The reason he was still grouching about the festival was entirely Harry’s fault. One of the acts Harry had written a song for was playing, and he’d managed to get their whole group on the list. Unfortunately when they arrived they discovered that Harry and Cara were down as the band’s roadies, while the rest of them were on the standard guest list. After Niall and Louis had taken the piss for ten minutes at the thought of Harry and Cara being roadies, they had realised that the passes Harry had been given allowed backstage access, while their own had not, which had resulted in Louis withholding cuddles from them both for a good half an hour. He still hadn’t told Harry he’d forgiven him, which was why he was moaning as loudly as he could as often as he could.

They spent the afternoon in a hidden away nook in the woods, listening to bluegrass band followed by country followed by more blues. They’d quenched their hunger with pulled pork buns and their thirst with spiked iced tea. Harry had spent the entire afternoon talking like he was from Nashville, and telling tales about when he had been in Nashville, which had lead to the three other boys all punching him on the arm at least four times each, and Cara eventually getting up leaving in search of her girlfriend who was at the festival on a hen do. 

Apart from Harry being Harry, it had been a wonderful afternoon. The air was hazy with heat and the food and booze had settled into Louis’ bones in a way that left him languid and loose. Weed smoke drifted from the group next to them, and when the joint was passed his way Louis took it gratefully, inhaling deeply, enjoying how the smoke coiled around his already sated bones and just relaxed him further. 

Around six they drifted as a group to a collection of food stalls, each managing to find something that grabbed their attention. Despite his earlier qualms Louis ended up inhaling two soft shell crab burgers and a portion of spiced potato wedges. 

Arms were slung around shoulders and cigarettes were inhaled greedily as they stumbled and rolled towards the main stage. The sun was getting lower and the band Harry knew were on soon. They had other friends nearby, ones with a baby despite Louis’ disdain. It gave them a base though, somewhere to come back to when they each wandered off to dance, or get drinks. An oasis of blankets and weed and beer in the heady chaos of the festival.

Harry had disappeared at some point with Cara, leaving Niall and Louis and Liam to lie back and enjoy the dying sun, listening to the fairly hilariously bad band who were on the stage. Pint after pint appeared, pushed into Louis’ hands by well meaning friends. He wanted to dance, he needed to feel the beat of good music in his veins and let himself move. There was an undercurrent of something just below the languid settledness he had been feeling all day, and it left him itchy, needing more.

“Hey party people.” Harry shouted from five metres away, his distinctive low drawl discernible over the chatter which surrounded them.

The others murmured in reply as Harry drew nearer, Niall distracted by a guitar and Liam by a pretty girl who was dancing nearby.

“There’s a well posh toilet backstage. Got running water and everything.” Harry smirked, waving the damned pass around as he did so. 

“Fucker.” Louis didn’t deign him with more of a response than that. They might be best mates but right at that moment Louis was reevaluating that life choice.

“Don’t be mean, H.” Cara elbowed Harry in his ribs, giggling as they fell into a play fight. “Here, Lou, take mine, just stick it round your neck and pull your jumper down to cover your wristband. Doubt security’ll check. Go piss in style.”

Their laughter followed Louis as he made his way towards the backstage gate. He tried to add a bit of swagger to his walk, look like he belonged where he was going, but his hands were shaking slightly all the same. As he got closer he tugged the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, thanking the great British weather for the cool night following the hot day allowing him to cover his guest list band.

“Alright, mate?” The security guard nodded at him, not even checking his wrists as he pushed the gate open for Louis.

His heart was beating a million miles an hour as he walked through, certain he would hear a shout to call him back as he crossed the open space ahead of him. Nothing came, but every nerve in his body was on fire waiting for it all the same. 

He finally made it to the loos. Locking himself in a cubicle and relaxing against the door. Harry had been right, proper posh toilets that flushed and had sinks and loo roll and everything. It was a treat despite the fact it had only been a day and a half. 

He made the most of it, washing his arms and face and making sure he was as fresh as it was possible to be. He’d showered first thing, there had even been hot water despite the forty five minute wait he’d endured, but three dips in the lake since and a lot of sun and beer had left him feeling sticky and gross. It was good to be clean.

When he left he turned to the right instead of heading straight back out of backstage. Just a quick wander, just to see who was about. He might even get lucky and spot the headline act, one of his favourite artists. Instead he found a small tent with two makeup artists inside. They were cleaning up their desks, chatting aimlessly, clearly with little to do until the next celeb rolled through.

“Hiya, loves” Louis called from the entrance to the tent. The makeup ladies had a kettle and tea bags off to one side and they had prompted Louis to break his backstage cover and instigate conversation.

“Hello!” The woman who talked had long white blonde hair tied up in a bun on the top of her head. Her face shimmered with glitter. Louis wasn’t at all jealous.

“You guys look a bit bored, fancy some company?” He didn’t really know what he was doing, or why he was doing it, but he was buzzed and sometimes that leads to reckless choices. 

“Sure, come in. I’m Lou, this is Amy.” She nodded to the brunette who was busy cleaning her brushes.

Louis laughed. “I’m Lou too, well, Louis.” 

“Well Lou, come in and have a seat, I’ll pop the kettle on.” Blonde Lou was Louis’ new favourite person. 

Tea and a biscuit later the three of them were getting on like a house on fire. Louis had regaled them with tales of his day at the festival, and Lou had very indiscreetly told Louis about the celebrities they had dolled up during the day.

“Boring lot really. It’s a bloody festival and not one of them would let me glitter them up.” She sighed wistfully, inspecting the many pots of glitter that littered her desk.

“You can stick some on me? I mean. If you want? You don’t have to.” Louis had blurted out his response, turning suddenly uncharacteristically shy as he realised just what he had said. The way Lou’s face lit up was testament to it being a good idea though.

Five minutes later and Louis was handed a mirror to inspect her work. She’d added just a touch of black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, and then under each one was a waterfall of rainbow colour. It was the prettiest thing Louis had ever seen. He was busy checking himself out, turning his head just so in order to catch the dying daylight, when a voice interrupted their fun.

“Hello my wonderful make-up loves.” The voice was deeper than Louis’. Raspy and Northern (but sounded like the wrong side of the Pennines) and very distinctly male. 

“Nick!” Lou cried happily. Louis could see her embracing a tall man in the mirror he still held in front of him. 

Louis turned, seeing a man with a ridiculous quiff and sunglasses, despite the fact it was almost sunset. He was wearing jeans and hunter wellies, despite the fact it hadn’t rained, and a barbour jacket over a plaid shirt. Typical of all the music industry wankers that Harry was friends with. He looked kind of familiar, but Louis couldn’t quite place where he had seen the man before.

“Oh, and who do we have here then?” Nick turned to Louis, surveying his very glittery face, before his eyes swept greedily over Louis’ body. “An interloper, perhaps? Not sure I know your face. How did you get backstage then...” Nick grabbed Louis’ pass, reading the name there “Cara Delevigne?”

Louis’ face burned. Anger at the arrogance of the man in front of him mixing with shame and annoyance at himself for having thought the guy was hot (for a hipster) not thirty seconds earlier.

“His name’s not Cara it’s..” Louis cut Lou off with a choked sound as he jumped up and ran from the tent. He tried to slow his stride when he got outside, but was certain a security guard was about to come and chuck him off site at any moment. 

“Cara!” The shout came from some way behind him. It was ok, he was sure he could make it back to the security gate and slip into the anonymity of the crowd before Nick caught him. 

“Cara!” The voice was louder, closer, and accompanied by running footsteps. A hand on his shoulder. Christ Louis was fucked.

The hand spun him round. He was met by dark brown eyes and a very confused puppy face.

“Look, it’s fine. I was just kidding. I’m not about to dob you in.”

“Whatever.” Adrenaline spiked Louis’ blood, tainting his response with a surlyness he wasn’t sure he intended. The man was pretty, that was an issue, as right now Louis wanted to hate him, but he was so fucking pretty.

“Louis!” Harry’s voice travelled towards him, but he couldn’t look away from Nick, wouldn’t he told himself, wouldn’t be the one to give in first.

“Oh cool, you found Grimmy! Wondered what was taking you so long.” Harry caught up to them, swaying slightly on his feet as he grinned happily around the rim of his pint glass, clearly oblivious to the tension between Louis and Nick.

“Grimmy?” Louis raised one eyebrow, still not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, you know, Grimmy? DJ? Radio 1? My mate? Lou do you listen to anything I say?” Slight confusion had crept into Harry’s voice now, perhaps wondering how Louis had ‘found’ Nick if he didn’t know who Nick was. Louis hoped he was as drunk as he looked. 

“Anyway.” Harry barreled on when neither Nick nor Louis spoke, or looked away from each other. “It’s about to start, was coming to find you. Oh! Nice glitter Lou. So cool.”

Harry wandered off aimlessly towards the security gate, clearly he was as drunk as he looked. Louis held Nick’s gaze for another beat before he turned and followed Harry. He was vaguely aware of footsteps right behind him, but he wasn’t going to give Nick the satisfaction of turning ‘round.

They got back to their friends just as the first bars started. Euphoria coursed through Louis,  _ this _ was what he had come for,  _ this _ was why he was at this festival.

_ Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air... _

Florence stood before him onstage, beautiful and ethereal as smoke twined around her from a machine unseen. The crowd roared, surging and swirling and singing as one being. Louis let himself get swept into it. From somewhere behind him a cheer went up, familiar voices chanting in unison. He turned, grinning as he saw Liam had discarded his top and was losing himself in the music just as much as Louis was. His friend shone, pure happiness radiating from him. His eyes were almost shut with how deeply he was smiling as he danced. 

Turning back to the stage Louis spotted Harry a few people in front of him, arms up in the air as he did his best impression of a man who had rhythm. It wasn’t hugely convincing but Louis loved to watch him all the same. Harry just glowed, utterly in his element and yet utterly oblivious to the twenty or so people around him who had clearly fallen for him truly madly and deeply. 

Somewhere off to his right Niall was cheering, his voice recognisable even over the crowd. It sounded like he might be asking Florence to marry him. Louis burst out laughing at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” He jolted as the words were shouted into his ear, jerking him from his zone. Hands rested on his hips, and Louis didn’t need to look round to know it was Nick. 

“None of your beeswax.” He shrugged his hips, dislodging Nick for a second before the hands were back.

“Look, Cara, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a twat. Forgive me? Dance with me?” Nick was in his ear again. Louis really wanted to be annoyed, but the problem was still that Nick was so pretty, and Louis was buzzing, and the thought of dancing with someone big and tall and pretty was a tempting one.

“Name’s not Cara. And fine.” He huffed, not bothering to turn round, let Nick strain to hear him over the crowd. “Just dancing though.”

The hands wrapped tighter in response, Nick pressing closer, their hips moving together. 

Lyrics drifted over the sea of people towards them.

 

_ Lay me down _

_ Let the only sound _

_ Be the overflow _

_ Pockets full of stones _

 

Nick tried to pull Louis round so they were facing, but Louis was having none of it. Florence was on stage not thirty metres away from him, and he wasn’t about to miss a second of her celestial beauty for some twat with a quiff, even if he was a cute twat with a quiff.

The music throbbed, washing over him and leaving him shivering with adrenaline. Of course it could be the weed and the beer or even the rum shots Harry had insisted on earlier, but Louis was convinced this was some sort of magic that only Florence could weave.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Nick murmured in his ear, hot breath ghosting over Louis’ skin. Louis shivered slightly, trying to hide it in his dancing.

“Course she is. She’s Florence, innit?” Nick chuckled in response and Louis could feel the goosebumps raising on his skin. Damn traitorous body.

They lost themselves in the music, hit following hit following hit. The crowd knew all the words, even to the album tracks, and the sound as they sung together was incredible. Louis half wished he could watch from the stage, watch the sea of people worshipping at the alter of music together, see it from her perspective. Instead he contented himself with the warm arms around his waist and the warm lips on his neck and the shimmering music washing over him.

_ No light, no light in your bright blue eyes... _

Nick mouthed the words against Louis’ skin, leaving electric sparks in his wake

 

_ And I’d do anything to make you stay _

_ No light, no light, no light _

_ Tell me what to say... _

 

Louis rolled his eyes. Not only was he lumbered with this (very cute) twat, but he was a dramatic twat too. One who sung Florence lyrics to someone he had only just met. Two could play at that game, Louis spun on his heel, pushing up onto his tiptoes to whisper in Nick’s ear.

 

_ You want a revelation _

_ You wanna get it right _

_ But it’s a conversation _

_ I just can’t have tonight. _

 

He laughed lightly at the consternation on Nick’s face before he placed a kiss to the skin below Nick’s ear and turned back around, losing himself once more in the final few songs.

The sun had set fully now, inky black sky above them cut through by lasers that emanated from the stage. Louis tipped his head back onto Nick’s shoulder. Up above him was a blanket of stars. More than he could ever see in London. He wanted to lie on his back and stare at them for hours, maybe even holding Nick’s hand, if Nick was lucky.

_ Don’t touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head... _

Louis grinned. This was his favourite song. He opened his mouth and started singing along, voice raspy and tinged with too many cigarettes but clear toned all the same. Nick clearly approved if the way he muttered a quiet “woah” and clutched Louis to him tighter was any indication. They swayed together, Louis’ voice rising over those around him.

The stage went dark for a minute, the crowd itchy and hopeful for more. A few chants went up, calling for one more song, filtering across the dark space, dying as quickly as they started.

_ Between a crucifix and the Hollywood sign, we decided to get hurt... _

The lights blazed on again, washing the stage and the crowd in pure gold. Louis soared. He floated above himself, watching as the shimmering lights settled back down as the song rose to take over from them.

Nick tugged at him, urging him to turn, to dance properly. Louis held out, wanting to soak up every moment of Florence that he could. Finally, at the last chorus, he relented.

Their lips crashed together. Louis on tiptoes and Nick bending slightly, but it was perfect, better than Louis had hoped for. Cliches bounded through Louis’ mind as fireworks exploded around him, the end of the song an end of the set lighting up the sky with sparkling reds and golds. The fireworks weren’t for Louis, obviously, but at the same time it felt like they were. 

Darkness fell once more, but Nick and Louis were oblivious, swept up in the novel sensations of kissing someone for the first time. It felt full of possibility, of the promise of something. The night felt loaded, like it could change everything, like something bigger should happen than a quick snog before Louis stumbled back to his tent and his half deflated airbed.

“Come on.” He tugged at Nick’s hand. “Let’s go, before the other’s see. Let’s go on an adventure.”

Nick quirked an eyebrow, laughing slightly. Ok, so he was still a twat, that hadn’t changed. Louis was a twat at times too though, so he could look past it for one night anyway. Nick was cute, and a good kisser, and right at that moment that was all Louis needed.

They took off, pushing through the crowds, Louis leading and Nick following. Nick’s laughter echoed in his ears, comments that this was crazy, that Louis was crazy. 

They stopped at a bar, grabbing cans of red stripe to take on their adventure with them. Nick bribed the barmaid to not crack them open with a fiver and a wink. As they left the bar tent Louis looked around, he;d lost his bearings slightly in the dark, not helped by the fizz in his blood that was a mixture of beer and weed and Florence and  _ NickNickNick. _

Eventually he pulled them in what he hoped was the direction of the woods. It seemed to take forever to get there. They floated in an out of crowds, they stumbled down hills, laughter in the air between them as they pulled each other over when they fell.

The woods were thrumming. Dance music seemed to come from every direction, possibly from the tress themselves. The canopy was a wash of lights, an artificial night sky that wasn’t nearly as pretty as the real one.

Louis wasn’t sure how long they spent in the woods. It could have been hours or maybe only ten minutes. By the time they reached the lake, they had run out of beer and had stolen a joint from some kid, and everything was languid and warm and glistening. 

They lay by the edge, heads together as they passed the joint back and forth. They talked. They chatted about their lives, their families, their hopes, their fears, in that way you can only do when you are drunk and it’s the early hours of the morning. That zone where you don’t know if it’s yesterday or tomorrow, and just want to talk and talk and talk and kiss. They kissed too. They kissed a lot. Chaste pecks as they passed the joint. Deeper kisses as they shotgunned smoke from each other’s mouths and got carried away after. Affectionate kisses after what felt like important revelations. Dirty kisses as the joint ended and their bodies moved closer together.

“Let’s swim.” Nick whispered, his voice husky and worn by the smoke and the kissing. 

“We can’t, they don’t let you at night.” Louis tried to hide the disappointment from his voice. He’d watched some drunk blokes be dragged from the lake the night before by security. The guards had threatened to chuck them off site if they didn’t co-operate. 

“There’s no one down this end though. The guards are all up by the bridge.” Nick pecked a kiss to his lips before he dropped his trump card. “Thought you wanted an adventure?”

Louis wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, or to back away from an adventure. He just wasn’t. He didn’t answer. He just pushed up from the ground and started to strip his clothes. A sharp intake of breath behind him told him Nick was watching. He slowed his movements, letting the languid nature of his blood take over, swaying and curving his body as he stripped. 

A splash behind him made him turn. Nick was in the water and looked to be naked. Louis was just in his boxers and was about to jump in.

“No. Naked. Come on.” Nick’s words were dark and filled with want. Louis revelled in the fact he made him sound that way. He preened even.

Turning his back on Nick he quickly bent over and pushed the shorts down, wiggling his arse slightly for good measure. When he turned back Nick was nowhere to be seen. He looked up and down the lake, not sure where Nick could have gone and frankly miffed Nick had missed his show, until Nick popped up from under the water, panting and holding his hands over his eyes.

“Fucking hell, you’ll be the death of me  _ Cara.”  _ Nick finally spluttered. “Fucking get in here.”

“Still not Cara, you twat.” Louis pressed the words to his skin.

“Still not allowed backstage then.” Nick countered. “But I’m glad I found you there.” 

Louis was glad of the darkness that covered his blush. They were lit only by the stars and the moon. The water around them was cold, only the top layer having been warmed by the sun earlier. A shiver wracked him, his teeth chattering slightly.

“Come’ere.” Nick had his arms open, wrapping them round Louis to share body warmth. Louis’s legs wrapped naturally around the taller man’s waist, fitting together like they’d been made for this.

They kissed. They kissed as starlight reflected off the ripples in the water. Music drifted to them on the wind when the breeze turned to come from the woods, but otherwise it was like they were the only two people here.

“You look so pretty, in the moonlight. Proper catches on your cheekbones.” Nick bit his words into Louis’ collarbone, marking him in contrast to the sweetness in his voice. He licked, catching droplets of water and flecks of glitter that had fallen from Louis’ face.

They both shivered, the cold water seeping into their bones.

“Shit.” Nick spoke through chattering teeth. “This was a bit of a bobbins idea, eh? Too fucking cold.” Louis just hummed in agreement, pushing closer to Nick to try and catch any warmth the man had left to give.

“Wanted to give you a hand job in the water. Thought it’d be romantic and stuff. Cause I want to romance you Lou. Thought you were just a challenge, but you’re more. You’re the prize.”

Louis burst out laughing at that, pushing Nick away from him as he released his legs from Nick’s waist, watching as the older man fell backwards and ducked under the water, coming up spluttering again.

“Twat.” Nick spit the word out with a mouthful of water, but there was affection there too.

“Guess you’ll have to romance me with hand jobs another time.” Louis really wished he didn’t sound like he wanted that so much.

“Come stay at mine tonight?” Nick had grabbed him again, pulling their bodies back together as they made their way to the bank.

“Ah yes, sweaty tent sex at a festival. The height of romance.” Louis rolled his eyes. He might want Nick badly, but not enough for tent sex. A hand job in the lake was one thing, canvas sticking to his arse as they tried to fit two bodies onto an airbed was quite another. Sharing a sleeping bag would be even worse.

“Don’t be daft. I was working here, for the beeb. Got a yurt, don’t I? Double bed, proper duvet, fluffy as fuck pillows, all to myself. It’s even got a firepit outside. We can roast marshmallows after.”

Louis raised an eyebrow as he pulled his clothes onto his wet body with great difficulty. This could be interesting.

He took Nick’s hand, letting himself be pulled in the direction of the yurts.

“Do you really have marshmallows?”

  
Nick’s laughter was like a bell, clear and deep and joyful. Louis wanted to hear it for much longer than one night.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr, I'm conscious__ramblings over there too
> 
> Kudos and comments are like glitter and midnight swimming.


End file.
